I wanted to share….
Ram Dass once said,
“We begin to forget our own romantic storyline. ‘Who am I becoming?’ ‘What will I be when I grow up?’ All of these models just fall away. We just start to sit simply, live simply, be where we are, be with whom we’re with when we’re with them.”
Most of us think of peace as a feeling. Something warm. Something quiet. Something that arrives after the storm passes, after the problem resolves, after the body finally relaxes.
We imagine peace as the absence of noise.
But that’s not what Ram Dass is describing.
He’s describing something stranger. Something the mind doesn’t quite know what to do with.
He’s describing the moment you stop telling yourself the story of your life.
Not the painful story. Not the trauma.
The romantic story.
The one where you’re becoming something. The one where this year matters because it’s leading somewhere. The one where the struggle has a shape and the shape has a point and the point is that one day, finally, you’ll arrive.
That story.
Most of us don’t realize we’re telling it. It runs so constantly, so quietly, that it feels like breathing.
Who am I becoming? Am I on track? Is this where I should be by now?
The storyline isn’t always dramatic. Sometimes it’s just a low hum of comparison. A background calculation that measures every day against some future version of yourself that doesn’t exist yet.
And here’s what no one tells you: that hum is exhausting.
Not because the story is bad.
Because keeping it alive takes everything you have.
You have to remember the plot. You have to track the characters. You have to know where you stand relative to where you thought you’d be. And every time life deviates from the script, you have to rewrite.
That is the opposite of peace...
